


Falling Like Rain

by Starkissed1



Series: No Room for Perfection [6]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Extra angst on the side, M/M, MCU compliant, Missing/Deleted Scene, Porn with Feelings, Sibling Incest, Thor: The Dark World, You Have Been Warned, canon angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkissed1/pseuds/Starkissed1
Summary: When Loki was confined to Asgard’s dungeons, he had things to do—we’re not talking about books to read, his mother to talk to—these things were nice. He knew more than he let on and he was not in any shape to prevent the coming horror. What he needed to do was mend. What Loki wanted to do? Hmmm, about that...
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Series: No Room for Perfection [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/988956
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28
Collections: Thorki Baby Bang 2020





	1. Thor

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Baby Bang y'all! This incorporates several of the cut scenes from The Dark World. I hope you enjoy this journey. Holly ([apatheticpluto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Band_obsessed/pseuds/apatheticpluto)) graciously sat through several beta versions and helped me get unstuck. 
> 
> [Debo77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Debo77/profile) made the lovely cover! You can find her on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bubblebubble03) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/thisthorkithing).

Thor watched for ten minutes before he said anything. There were good days, and there were bad days. The last time they had seen this skyline had been a very bad day. If that was where Loki’s head was, they might be better off if he found out now. 

“Sentiment, brother?” Thor wiggled his fingers next to his left leg rather than smooth leather over wounds that no longer existed. The restraint was unnecessary as Loki did not even glance his way.

Stark’s landing pad had not been built as a viewpoint, but it served. Loki should be able to see much of the city. He ignored the question. “They are constantly running. When do they breathe? When do they stop? Humans never really take the opportunity to appreciate what they have for the fleeting time they are alive. They are gone before they even know.”

Thor looked up from the balcony below. Loki towered, his long legs half-hidden by the platform. It seemed he had dressed for comfort—a ribbon trimmed tunic and simple leggings. The lack of armor gave little clue as to where his head was. It was more important that Loki had answered. Any answer was an invitation when so much remained unspoken. Thor jumped in with both feet, “And, brother mine, how are you taking the time to appreciate what you have?” 

Above the bustle of New York City, Loki turned with a smile and the city lights upon him. The wind lifted his hair and a bit of ribbon trailed to the side. He looked soft in the night. Nothing could be further from the truth. Loki was hard angles and sharp tongue and broken edges.

“I was thinking about Vanaheim.”

“Oh?” Thor barely let the question go and he could smell the forest. He closed his eyes to take in the light scent. It was full of life—dirt, trees, and grass. When a hand slipped into his, Thor opened his eyes to shadows of leafy branches and diffuse sunlight playing over his brother’s skin. Provided they did not actively attempt to disrupt it, they could stay within the illusion. 

Loki glanced towards Thor and then over his shoulder. Reluctantly, Thor turned.

A blanket had been laid out under the canopy by younger versions of themselves. They had been to Vanaheim often for official and family visits, but this was something else all together. They were comfortable in this realm, and more importantly, everyone else was comfortable. The young princes could be gone for days on Vanaheim, and if they had not shirked much responsibility, no one commented.

Thor squeezed his brother’s hand. In the memory that Loki had constructed around them, they were on a “hunting” trip. Sure, they had done a little hunting, but mostly they came here to get away—from the castle, from the expectations, from the people, all of it. Here in the forest, they could love each other without concern. 

This particular moment, found the two mostly sated with Thor cuddling a Loki who was thinking too hard. He had read that it was possible for two magic users to create a melding of seidr while they were physically joined. They had attempted it repeatedly that day, without success. Younger Thor kissed the spot on his brother’s forehead that wrinkled up with concentration, just so. Loki told him that his face was distracting. Thor just laughed and rolled over, taking the little spoon spot while his brother continued his pondering by drawing circles on Thor’s bare hip. 

As they watched their younger selves, Thor stepped closer to Loki and slid an arm behind his waist. He turned from the tableaux and leaned over Loki’s shoulder to kiss the edge of his jaw. “Thank you for sharing this moment with me again.” He remembered what happened next, and his pulse quickened. From this vantage point, he could see what he had not then. 

The circles Loki had been drawing on his hip began to glow, green and white in turns. Thor remembered the way the energy had pulsed through him, how he had tried to hold still, but every spot where Loki’s skin touched his was electric. The energy was always there, he could harness it under the right circumstances and release the lightning in destruction, but this was not that chaos. This buzz had gathered under his skin and raced to follow Loki’s tracing. He had pressed against his brother to touch as much of him as possible. Loki had pulled him to his back and scrambled atop. The connection had stuttered as Loki shifted to complete the bond. The way was eased by their earlier joining, and they came together messily. Thor could not breathe and he had grabbed Loki’s hip to still him. Sparks had jumped between them as Loki folded forward. He had been murmuring something and only stopped when his lips hit Thor’s.

The watchers could see the power radiating from the couple’s impending orgasm. Even though they had come repeatedly that day, they could not maintain the shared seidr for long. Everything burst into bloom around them. Thor had forgotten how far the flowers spread.

“You loved me.” Loki beside him spoke quietly. The simple phrase was filled with an awe that had Thor’s eyes watering.

“Yes, Loki.” Thor continued to watch the memory. Right here, right now, he could not make eye contact. “I did then. I do now.” 

“You don't still love me like that, you can't. Thor must be worthy." 

It was not mocking, rather the words were filled with a certainty that brought Thor around to face him. “Loki, I…”

“Don’t. Whatever it is, Midgardian poetry, courtship gifts from Nidavellir, just don’t.” Loki pulled away. The forest blurred to the hard edges of Stark Tower once more.

It would be easy to set his hand on that shoulder, spin him round and kiss him, but that was a selfish urge. He no longer had that privilege. “There is nothing but myself and memories we share.” 

The drag of a leather boot against the balcony tile was the response. Loki stopped walking and whispered, “Look at this, look around you. You think this madness will end?”

Thor stared at silk-covered shoulders, dark waves failing to mask the shudder that followed the quote. The wind carried the city’s urgency in hushed horns and slammed doors, quite obviously not the explosive backdrop from which he had uttered those words. “What madness? I see but two brothers.” 

“Why are you here?” Loki turned part of the way around. 

“You are my brother and my friend.” Thor caught the eye roll and stepped into the space between them. “Never doubt that I love you.”

“I doubt everything, Thor.” Loki curled in on himself.

Thor rolled around collapsed shoulders and circled his arms about Loki. “Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love.” Thor kissed his forehead.

“I know I said not to do that.” 

Thor made no attempt to camouflage his grin. “But, you like Shakespeare.”

Loki’s arms were tucked between them. He fussed with a bit of lint on Thor’s shirt. “I should put another hole in your side.”

“I think, when I remember this balcony, I would rather remember this.” Thor kissed his forehead again. 

Loki stopped picking at lint and pushed aside the collar of Thor’s shirt. He traced a design on skin exposed. Thor sucked air between his teeth and Loki finally looked up.

Thor’s growl was a warning. It was a promise. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Give me something to remember, Thor.” The demand dropped between them with the weight of centuries. The scent of Vanaheim returned as if a stray breeze had been left in New York.

Thor met the challenge by tilting his head and pressing his lips to Loki’s. His stiff brother finally melted. Even if he questioned everything else, this, he did not. He unfolded his arms and let them come around Thor. Thor bent around him further, kisses sliding down his neck.

Loki breathed deep and slowly let it out. The words that followed were soft, “Do not speak to me of love, for I may not know it. Do not tell me of passion nor desire’s burning. I know what it is to be cold.” His hand pushed Thor’s shirt up and his fingers spread in the small of Thor’s back. The recitation continued, “Let me touch the debris of living, that I may believe. Paint me with strokes of sweat and tears. Leave me kiss-drunk and frozen.” He drew that same symbol again and Thor’s skin buzzed in response. “I know what it is to be cold.”

Thor did not know the prose, though he could guess the poet. He caught the sob in his throat before it escaped. Instead, he let his kiss answer the request. He held Loki close as the fabric between them faded away with a familiar glow. There was a lounging chair near the glass railing, he began to move in that direction. 

Nearing the seat, Loki stepped around it. If things were different, Thor would have pulled his brother down and controlled his every move, cheered forward by Loki’s delight. This was not about those games. This was tentative. So much had been lost to pain and time and whatever else it was that tore people apart. Where it went from here could not yet be known.

Loki stepped towards the glass, turning his back to Thor as he pulled them together again. He drew another symbol on Thor’s hand. “Here, just over the edge.”

Thor dragged his free hand down Loki’s side to his hip. Their bodies settled against each other with his length pressed tight between them. Loki continued to draw on Thor’s skin. The power flowing between them did not recognize time nor trauma. This connection was familiar. 

“Shall it be as if we were flying? Grounded only by your grip on the railing and my grip on you?” Thor dug his fingers into the hip he was holding and matched Loki’s answering groan. 

“What are you waiting for, Thor?” Loki was probably attempting to chide him, but it was desire that spiked his question. 

Thor drew back to squeeze his hand between them. As expected, Loki was slick as Thor mirrored those circles before entering. Loki’s drawing stuttered, yet the seidr-sharing continued. Over the years, they had figured how to maintain the exchange by focusing on that flow of energy. Thor pushed the buzz in his skin through his fingers as he played with Loki. His brother squirmed and slowly blew out his breath, this was not his first time either. 

“Thor, you really should be fucking me.” That sounded more like his brother. 

It was enough for Thor to do exactly that. Loki was tight around him and the long push that brought them together was encouraged by the growing crescendo of the buzz between them. Thor no longer had to think about it. With his dick burying itself in slow thrusts, the seidr flowed. 

Loki pushed back into Thor and then folded over the railing, his hands gripping it on either side. His thighs must be pressed against it because there was a stop to how much he moved. There would be bruises. There were like to be more from Thor’s tight grasp on hip bones. Thor eased off and slid one hand down Loki’s back. He was always amazed at the swirls on their skin when they fucked this way: his lightning obvious in its jumps between the space between his flesh and Loki’s; Loki’s seidr in its less obtrusive caress.

Thor let his thrusts slow and pulled Loki up by his hair, reveling in the tightening that ran through his brother’s body. Loki’s lips were parted, his eyes half-closed. They were both very close to finishing. That was the thing about mixing their powers; everything was over too soon. Thor’s lips brushed a bright pink cheek, sizzling with the electricity traveling between them. “Come with me brother.”

It was the only warning Loki got. Though, the burst of energy that followed left him no choice. Loki released the railing and Thor wrapped an arm around his midsection. They could be flying. They could be falling. The wind welcomed them either way.

One of Loki’s arms had settled on top of Thor’s, his other pushed back behind him and held Thor’s side. He sighed and spoke, but Thor could not make out the words with blood still rushing in his ears. A mumbled question got Loki to repeat himself.

“That is not how this ended in Vanaheim.”

Thor’s breath caught. He kissed Loki’s cheek and brushed over his hair. “I’ll…” Thor blinked wet eyes. “I’ll need your help for that, love.” That first time they had melded back in Vanaheim, not only had they forced everything around them into bloom; they had called the rain. When the first illusory drops hit his back, tears slid down his cheeks. His fingertips chased the reflection of city lights in the wetness on Loki’s skin.

** 

Loki allowed Thor to carry him to the bed and tuck him in. Thor curled up behind him until his brother’s breathing deepened. With Loki finally at rest, Thor inched off of the covers and ran his hand over his face. 

This was more difficult than he had expected. 

Odin Borson, King of Asgard, Allfather, their father, had refused to consider a lesser sentence for his brother. Thor had pleaded, as did their mother, but the old man would not relent. Months ago, Thor had accepted this defeat and had gone to share his sorrow in that golden cell that was to be his brother’s permanent home. Thor knew what it was like to be locked away. Though when Loki had told him he could never return from exile, keeping him away had been part of Loki’s plan. Thor was not sure that Loki would believe this was all Odin’s doing.

It did not matter at the time. Loki had refused to talk to him. There should have been blame, with accusations echoing from the walls. That was a dance they knew. Instead, Loki had pursed his lips, watching the tears wet Thor’s beard. A few sentences in, Loki had turned his back and walked away. The screech of chair legs on marble still haunted Thor’s waking hours.

They were both stubborn, so when next Thor was in the dungeons, it was not for Loki. It had been less than two weeks since that screech echoed off the walls. But when he passed that cell, he heard his name. Loki had looked him up and down, told him the illusion was too somber to actually look like his brother, and turned away once more. 

It was several days later that a guard had approached with Loki’s request. Thor agreed to meet with him the following day. Then, they yelled. There was blame to place and guilt to claim. They talked. Everything old was new again. Thor vowed to find a way to reverse the Allfather’s order. Loki said he would manage the confinement his way; he needed time to fix things that were wrong. He did not actually ask, but Thor knew he needed help.

Thor visited when he could, bringing news and occasionally sweets. Nothing else made it through the barrier, not even the actual rain Loki requested today. Days like this were good. Actually, today had been an amazing day. It had been easy to fall into his brother’s arms, surrounded by illusions and memories and Loki. Days like this, felt like old times, before...everything. There had been some bad days, too. Days when Loki told him to run and never come back. When Loki was more coherent, he would not talk about those days—nor about the memories he was reliving those days.

One last time, Thor wiped his eyes as he stepped beyond the golden barrier. Loki seemed at peace in the plain cell, now devoid of both Vanaheim and New York City. Maybe on the next day that was not filled with illusions, they could talk about what was rekindling between them. 


	2. Loki

Loki was not his brother. He was not content with the rambling pronouncements of an aging fool. Of course, Thor had been given an entire realm for his exile and a roadmap home. Loki had just this cell. He could work with that. It was of little consequence that the King of Asgard had issued his decree with finality—resolved that one man should spend all of eternity in Asgard’s dungeons.

He was Loki, first, last and always. He, too, had sat the Hlidskjalf with Gungir in his hand and listened to the whispers of Yggdrasil. He knew how permanent that seemed, even if Odin One-eye had forgotten. 

This was temporary. 

**

Loki woke drenched in sweat, his heart racing. Spikes were drilling into his flesh. He writhed while he listened to that preacher droning. He could not breathe. He could not think. When he passed out, it would be only to wake to the process again. Death was a promise never fulfilled.

But…there were no spikes. This was not there. Well, it was probably not there. Loki sent his senses to every corner of the single room, and tasted the bits of magic that were his and the ones that were not. Lastly, he carefully examined the containment. Usually, he found their falsity prior, but there was that day recently where they had sent their minion disguised as a poor approximation of sad Thor. 

No, that was not recently. This was Asgard and that had actually been his brother. Loki was fully awake now and he knew what was real. He was in the dungeons, away from the deepest crack in the universe and that madman's puppets. This was as good a place as any to lick his wounds and determine what he wanted next. 

That was the question, was it not? What was an appropriate purpose for the once king, not-prince? The once Asgardian, never-but-always Jotunn? The once brother, once sister, no-longer Odinson? What does one do with a dead but still alive deity?

Tell a new story.

**

Asgard was celebrating. The cheers echoed through the golden city. They always bowed to the red cape. When Loki turned, some might have been shocked to see who wielded Mjolnir. But at a proper coronation, less would be unacceptable. That anyone questioned his tactics was unexpected.

“Loki, what are you doing?”

“I’m giving the people what they want.” It was a partial answer to her interruption.

Frigga stepped closer on the dais. “Does all this make you feel better?” She rarely approached anything without a lesson in mind.

Loki glanced back to her double-edged question. “It certainly doesn’t make me feel worse.”

“Cast enough illusions and you risk forgetting what is real.” Centuries of time at Frigga’s side were not necessary to recognize the disapproval. It was rich, though, coming from the projection of the seidkona herself.

Loki smiled to lessen the bite, “Precisely.” The simpler marble of his cell came back into view. Even though her admonishment stung, his mother would recognize coping. She, too, had made sacrifices for power and survival along the way. 

"You had another nightmare." 

"You might say that, or you could say that there are horrors rattling around my head that cause me not to rest." The red cape had given way to Loki’s standard colors, though the hollows under his eyes had not changed.

She looked to her left, minding something in her rooms beyond Loki’s view. When she glanced up, she raised her hand. “May I?”

Frigga always asked. Whether it was habit born of compassion or ruthless strategy mattered not, they were one in the same with her. She was strong enough she could do as she wanted without permission, but it was not her style to force herself onto her children nor even to the incarcerated of Asgard. Loki was both. Having spent several years absent her wisdom and her influence, he was not going to turn away her offer. He nodded.

The feel of her seidr was imperceptible to most, but she had trained him to follow it. With his eyes closed, he could watch her gentle probing of the entanglements that vexed him. In a move he had tried a hundred times, she brought a bit loose and smoothed it over. “That may help some.”

It may, or it may curl into knots again when exposed to the wrong elements. Yet, whether it was her actions, or simply the familiarity of her touch, the tension that had settled between his shoulder blades eased. “Mother, come sit with me and tell me of the wider world that it may distract me from these four walls."

Frigga spoke of council meetings and news as if he would need to be current on it all soon. As she did with all things, the queen of Asgard treated this confinement with a smooth practicality. One did not have to be a seer or an oracle to know the winds would change. Though, it was a relief to have the leading sorceress of the realm confirm it.

The royal family was quite accomplished at dysfunction. What was this, but a mother sitting with her son deep in conversation, in a cell of her husband’s making? Surely, not the way most families spend their time. Yet, even this was comfortable, and perhaps that was why he welcomed it. Illusions never stung in quite the same way, so this must be real. 

Was it madness? Quite possibly, yet there was method in it. 

**

A scuff brought him out of his head. Beyond the golden screen stood the golden prince. Loki sat up and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. “I did not expect to have a visitor today.”

“I like when I can surprise you.” Thor stepped through the haze. Standing there in his armor and his cape, it became more obvious how small the room actually was. Thor did not belong here. 

Loki closed his eyes to find the right angle. When he opened them, he let the image assemble around him, around Thor. Loki pushed off of what was now the settee from his brother’s receiving room. Everything now looked like it belonged. The wooden shelves, the tapestries, the slight variation to the rug pattern where a tear had been repaired—all the trappings of a prince properly filled the space. 

A decanter of wine sat upon the table. For even in the dungeon, the house of Odin provided for its own. Two goblets were arranged next to it, giving question to the claim that he was not expecting company. Loki poured for them both.

“Why are you here?” Loki repeated his question from the day prior. However, he was facing Thor and awaiting an answer. 

“To talk.” This time, it was Thor who turned away. He took a seat on the corner of the settee. 

When he looked back up, Loki raised an eyebrow. “About?” 

“About us...about this.” Thor’s hand waved in the direction of the deeper dungeons rather than towards Asgard above them. 

“This?” Loki mimicked Thor’s gesture and quickly fired questions. “‘This’ being the size of my private suite? ‘This’ being a prince of Asgard buried in a hole and forgotten? Or ‘this’ being the incarceration of your ‘beloved’?” His lips pressed tight on further accusations and his knuckles turned white around the stem of his goblet. 

Thor set his wine aside. “I am not here to argue, brother.” His bulk covered much of the red velvet cushions as he settled against the back, his arms braced along the top edge.

Loki walked down the line of the bookcases. “But, that is what we do. It is practically an art form.” He passed his wine from one hand to another.

“You know that father has forbidden your release.”

“And you, son of Odin,” Loki looked down his nose. “Always do as he commands.”

Thor folded his hands and set his forearms on his knees. “You know that I do not. And you know how well that works out for me.”

“Do not sit here and tell me how poorly this is working out for you.” While Loki spoke a flicker ran around the room; a span as wide as a man’s shoulders revealed the plain dungeon walls behind the illusion of warm wood.

Thor pursed his lips and stared. Thunderclouds darkened his eyes. He blew out his breath. He took the time to relax the wrinkles tight in his features. “So, what then? You sit here in rooms of your creation: we fight? we drink? we fuck? Time marches forward.” His voice rose and his face lost its hard-won relaxation with each question.

“That is the purpose of time—to allow the norns to pour out another pitcher, dripping the pain and suffering of destiny over all in their reach." Loki waved his goblet at the heavy double doors. "If you don’t want to be here, you can leave.”

“I don’t want **you** here.”

“Oh!” Loki spun round, wine sloshing over his fingers. “Well, did you all hear that? Prince Thor wants something!” He gestured to the books and the furnishings, directing them to get moving. “We should let him have it.”

“You mock me.”

Loki rolled his eyes.

“What is it you want? If it be within my power…” Thor stalled with Loki’s sharp interruption. 

“Must everything be a vow? a quest? a grand adventure?” Loki shook his head. “This is not the Great Hall.” He stepped forward. “This is not a tavern filled with sycophants. No one is like to be writing ballads about this day.” Loki put one knee down on the deep red velvet next to Thor’s thigh. “This is just you and me.”

Thor’s hand settled on the outside of Loki’s knee. “Just you," Thor slid his hand up to rest on a hip. “And me.” He looked up. “This is what you want?”

“No.” Loki placed his hands to either side of Thor’s face. “This is what I want now.” He leaned forward to kiss him. He was jostled as Thor pulled him to his lap. Loki let little kisses anchor him until he settled astride his brother, arms around his neck. Even though they had not walked them in a while, these were paths well-worn and comfortable. 

“What will you give me, brother?” The question was breathed over Loki’s cheek, followed by the brush of beard as Thor kissed his jaw.

Loki held to his brother like they had not just been together the day before, like they had not been apart for years. Both were true. Here in this moment of confinement, only the familiarity mattered. “What do you want?” 

This, too, was a game they knew well. They both knew what they liked, and Loki liked to be told. Thor pulled back slightly. “Your mouth.” Two fingers tapped pink lips.

Loki sucked them in and ran his tongue over finger pads. His cheeks hollowed slowly and he watched Thor. 

The corner of Thor’s lips lifted. He slid his fingers back and forth. With his other hand, he traced the hollow in Loki’s cheek. “I love to watch you like this, just in front of me. Your focus on whatever I set you to suck.” 

Lightly, Loki closed his teeth and dragged them along Thor’s fingers to the very tips. “Does that mean I have options?”

“Not yet.” Thor slid back between soft lips and pulled, forcing Loki to turn his head. Thor leaned in with a kiss to that bared throat. “Though, I’d be remiss to not let you showcase what this can do as well.”

Loki lifted his chin slightly, straightening the line that Thor was tracing with his tongue. This soft treatment clashed with unforgiving armor. Loki shifted to move off a distracting metal edge that was pressing into his inner thigh. 

“Are you uncomfortable brother?” The smile that accompanied the question made the answer unnecessary. “How about we find you somewhere more appropriate?” Thor made to stand and left his fingers in Loki’s mouth. When he pulled Loki’s chin down, the instruction was clear. With Loki on his knees, Thor released him. 

Thor’s armor was multiple parts, yet he did not tell Loki to send it away. One by one, Thor removed each piece. “You know brother, you are beautiful like this too.” He was close enough that he could caress Loki’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I like when you decide to be mine.”

“Oaf.” Loki’s head shake was delivered with a little smile. “What you like is when I decide to show it.” It was close enough to the truth, and he was not so far into this moment that he could permit Thor to voice incorrect statements. 

“Then show me.”

Loki’s focus zeroed in on the bounty presented. Thor had a beautiful cock. Like the rest of him, it appeared intentionally sculpted. The thick shaft curved elegantly and ended in a rosy head; offered just now within licking distance. Loki could not resist. His tongue pushed it up and let it fall to the side brushing his lips. A hand at the base gave him some stability and Loki looked up as he opened wide to take Thor in.

Blue eyes watched until lids fell. Loki hummed and bobbed to let the head hit the top of his mouth. Thor’s hand settled into its spot on the back of his head. Loki could make the adjustments himself, but he would rather let Thor do it. Tilted just so, Thor slid between Loki’s lips, pushing against the curve, making just the right amount of room. It was here that Loki swallowed. Not that he actually could, but to have his throat contract around that perfect cock was exactly what he wanted. Filled and fucked was a good place to be.

Loki’s gaze was swimming when Thor crouched down before him and lifted his chin. “There you are. I want you up, beautiful, and I want you naked.” The kiss that followed was hungry.

With his focus spreading out again, Loki wondered for a moment at the spots of drool on green silk, the ache in his cock, and how empty he was. He willed his clothes away and spelled the oil in the same thought. He got to his feet and then followed Thor’s nudge to the settee.

Thor’s touch was a claim, repeated over and again. Loki’s hands were placed here, an extra push indicated they should stay where placed. This thigh should be here. Thor’s tongue traced the bottom of Loki’s cock while fingers found the oil to ease their way. Loki wanted to chase that touch, to follow it, but he stayed where put and let his frustration out in long sighs.

Thor laughed. It was a deep, beautiful sound. “Brother, I am torn. Shall I make you wait? Or shall I give you what you so desperately want?”

Loki’s whine was no real answer. Not that his response mattered. Thor was going to do what he wanted, and Loki had long ago determined he was happy with his brother’s decision. Except now, Thor withdrew his fingers and left him empty again. Loki’s eyes opened wide in the only protest he could make.

“Come here.” Thor pulled Loki from his seat and turned them both around. With Loki held close and lips pressed to his own, Thor’s words found places between kisses. “I want you bouncing on my cock...riding me until you come...then I will fuck you until I’m sated.” 

Loki shivered as Thor released him and then climbed onto his lap, both hands settled on Thor’s chest. The slow slide that brought them together ended in a sharp pang that caused him to rise. Thor’s hands roamed over skin; little pinches scattered among caresses. Loki breathed deep and lowered himself again, letting his lungs empty as he was filled. Sharpness gave way to desire, and he chased it higher. 

“Loki,” Thor demanded his attention as he was flying. Palms pressed down on Loki’s thighs so he could not lift up. 

Trapped, Loki’s whole form tightened. He ached. He needed. He rolled his hips and fell over the edge. 

Thor held him as he collapsed forward. Kisses to his forehead, whispers along his skin, “Mine, beautiful. All mine.” Thor did not need his cooperation to roll them over. But, he waited for Loki to open his eyes before he thrust again. 

With his legs folded between them, Loki found his arms too heavy to do more than touch Thor’s forearms. It was gentle at first, and then something switched within Loki. He was no longer content to bask in sensation; the wave of desire hit him hard. He moaned and Thor answered with a snap of his hips. It was so much, too much, yet Thor continued to take more. Thor was telling him how good it felt to fuck him, to fill him, to use him and Loki could not follow. He was all exposed nerves and too many bright spots in his head to recognize the words. 

It did not take language to follow Thor to his climax, for he slowed, changing the tempo just enough that each jump of his cock was clearly defined. Only then, Loki heard his own voice repeating Thor’s name, until Thor kissed him to silence.

**

Thor’s visits were a balm on Loki’s troubled mind. He needed healing, and in certain schools of thought sex was healing. Well, yes, but also, Thor was home. More than the golden palace from which he had been momentarily barred, more than the library in which he had spent so many hours, more than the brush of Frigga’s seidr—Thor’s presence, whether they were fucking or fighting, that was his anchor against the void.


	3. No More Illusions

Thor and Frigga were not the only ones who found a reason to visit the dungeons. Loki had invested centuries in building networks of the easily forgotten. They remembered his favor, and found value in maintaining that option. While Loki waited, he gathered information and tidbits that might be useful. Information was neither good nor bad, it was useful. 

Utility did not stop the impact of the most recent update. 

**

Loki’s back was turned, but he barked Thor’s name as his brother approached.

Thor paused outside the barrier and watched Loki rise to his full height.

“I have heard, Odin’s son, that you have a ritual, that you go to the Watcher.” Loki turned and paced towards that golden glow. “That you seek out your pet human.”

“Loki.” The growl was a warning. 

“Oh! Am I not supposed to know? Am I not supposed to care, that you leave me here and go running for scraps from that woman?!?” Loki leaned forward so that his eyes were level in their glare.

Thor pushed through the barrier with a mission. His shoulders swung, each step crossing wide swathes of ground. Loki back-stepped and barely stayed upright when he ran into the wall. Thor’s fist hit the marble next to his head.

Loki’s pulse jumped rapidly in his neck. “This?!? This is why you’ll finally fight me?” White dust scattered over his dark waves. His lips curled slowly.

Thor pulled his fist from the crumbling marble and lowered his hand. At his side, he stretched his fingers wide. “No, Loki. I will not fight you. Not here.” 

The ridges around Loki’s eyes tightened. “Then why are you **here**?" Yes, he was going to ask that question again, as if Thor would ever answer it. Loki ran rapidly through a string of proclamations. "If she is what you want, then you should be there. Time passes so quickly for your humans. You’ll turn around and she’ll be gone. You’ll never even know what happened to her.”

Lightning flashed in Thor’s eyes. Even in the protected cell, ions flavored the air with the oncoming storm. “That is what you expect to trip me up?" The laugh that followed rang hollow, coming from the back of Thor's throat. The taste of the storm faded. "You seem to forget, brother,” He turned his back to Loki. “I am well accustomed to loss. You have given me that lesson repeatedly." 

Loki bristled as Thor walked away. "Do you not see your part in that?" 

"No, Loki.” 

_No, Loki._ A different voice, a different lifetime—the echo punched the air from his lungs. He was falling.

Thor’s footfalls were calm and measured. There would be no mad dash down the bifrost to grab his hand. “This is not about me." The golden net flashed together, further obscuring the red cape’s retreat. 

Loki pushed off the wall and gathered the only weapon he had left. "Be sure to tell your lady’s corpse of your innocence when you fail to save her as well."

Thor climbed the stairs without a backwards glance.

****Epilogue****

Thor was glad for the call to Vanaheim. Even if it meant seeing that beloved realm ravaged. It was far from Asgard and battle left little room for thought. 

Returning to the golden city brought everything crashing back down. With the incursion quashed, his friends and the Einherjar were ecstatic. Everyone had come home. There would be a feast. There were stories to be told, mead to be drunk— it was a time of celebration and Thor’s participation had been requested. In a haze of exhaustion that even Sif knew was not due the skirmish, he excused himself. 

The Observatory was peaceful and quiet. The realms were alight with the coming convergence, and Heimdal slipped into lecture mode with little prompting. That was, until he could no longer see Jane…

_You’ll turn around and she’ll be gone. You’ll never even know what happened to her._

What had Loki done?

**Author's Note:**

> This drops us back into TDW as we know it. Thor goes to Midgard and brings Jane back to Eir. He refuses to visit the dungeons. Loki tells Frigga it must be difficult with Thor asking after him day and night. Maleketh attacks and we mourn Frigga's passing. When Thor finally goes to Loki, it is with, "Loki, enough. No more illusions." 
> 
> If you feel like slapping both of them like it's the first time you've watched The Dark World (or the 20th), I've done my job.


End file.
